Chapter 9 - The Court of Public Opinion
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At 12:00 PM Eastern Time, the audio file was published on the front page of the Wall Street Journal, Bloomberg, and every major social media platform.
The crystal-clear recording captured Adrian’s exact words from Friday morning:
"Three days in the study. No phone. No visitors. Food at the door. You will think about what you’ve done until you give it back."
Followed by my quiet, unshakeable response:
"You’ll regret humiliating me, Adrian."
"No. I think you will."
The internet exploded into a absolute frenzy.
Within two hours, the hashtag #AdrianCross was trending globally at number one. Thousands of news articles, commentary videos, and business analysis pieces picked apart the fall of Cross Construction.
Public outrage was swift and merciless.
Major real estate developers who had contracted Cross Construction for high-rise projects immediately issued termination notices to protect their corporate reputations.
By 2:00 PM, Adrian’s office building in Chicago was surrounded by news vans, reporters, and angry protestors holding signs that read: HUMILIATE YOUR WIFE, LOSE YOUR LIFE’S WORK.
Inside his corner office, Adrian sat on the floor with his back against his desk, his tie undone, staring blankly at the wall.
His phone rang continuously, but he no longer had the strength to answer it.
The office doors banged open, and Celeste burst inside, her hair messy, her makeup smeared with tears. She was carrying three heavy shopping bags filled with clothes.
"Adrian!" she screamed, rushing over to pull on his shoulder. "The press is outside my apartment! People are throwing trash at my car! You have to fix this! Call the police!"
Adrian slowly looked up at her. His eyes were bloodshot, sunken, and utterly devoid of hope.
"The police?" Adrian chuckled, a dark, broken sound escaping his throat. "The police aren't going to save us, Celeste. Neither is anyone else."
"You're the CEO!" she yelled, shaking him violently. "Do something! Buy me a plane ticket out of here!"
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Adrian stood up slowly, pushing her hands off his suit jacket.
"Get out of my face, Celeste," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "I threw away a queen for a viper. And now I’m paying the bill."
